


an unexpected interlude

by mwestbelle



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 02:37:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11221521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwestbelle/pseuds/mwestbelle
Summary: In which Mad Sweeney just wants some time to himself, and Laura refuses to mind her own business.





	an unexpected interlude

**Author's Note:**

> This is a thought that came to me, and instead of letting it fester, I actually wrote it down for once. I started writing this before the most recent ep, but I think it's non-specific enough that it doesn't contradict canon.

He’s only just gotten his hand on his prick when her damnable sallow moon of a face appears, staring back at him over the seat.

“Ever heard of minding your own fuckin’ business?” He grits out from between clenched teeth. She doesn’t even blink, damnable cunt.

“Are you seriously going to jerk off right now?”

“I seriously am.” Sweeney gives his cock a squeeze and exhales harshly. “So why don’t you run off and find someone other forsaken soul to haunt for ten fuckin’ minutes.”

“Ten minutes, huh?” Her lavender tongue peeks out briefly to swipe across her blueing lips; she hasn’t got any moisture left, hasn’t got any need for it anymore, but if there’s one thing humans are, it’s creatures of habit. “So what about this situation, exactly, has you raring to go?”

This, Sweeney thinks, is more painful than  _ either  _ car crash he’s survived since his luck went sour. “We haven’t all got a great glowing hunk of man like you’ve got,” he says. “Some of us have to take it as it comes.”

By all rights, that should be the end of things, but instead of going back to sulking about that man of hers, her eyes...change. He doesn’t think the dead’s eyes can light; there’s no spark left in them, after all. But hers glint, somehow. “Oh. I get it. You want to fuck Shadow.”

His traitorous prick twitches in his hand, and he can only hope she didn’t notice. “I knew you were dead, didn’t know you--” 

“I don’t mind,” she interrupts. And fuck, she’s rearranging herself, settling properly so she’s facing him. He can see her knobbly knees, the slight peaks of her breasts under her shirt. “Everyone wants to fuck Shadow. He’s Shadow.” 

Sweeney inhales through his nose. “You’re a damn crazy bitch, you know that?” 

“Mm,” Laura says. “He’s got a big dick, you know? Shadow. Really big. I could always tell what people were thinking, when they looked at us.” She stops there, the pause hanging heavy in the air. He ought to zip up his fly and deal with the damn blue balls. It would be better than whatever the fuck this is.  

It’s a battle of wills, the silence, and Sweeney knows he’s well and truly fucked when he finally mumbles, “What?”

“They were wondering how we fucked.” It’s just as dry and matter of fact as everything else she’s said, but for some reason, it sends a pulse of lust through his groin. He groans softly, and that definitely piques her attention. She leans forward, elbows resting on her knees, and squints in the general direction of his crotch. He might have been afforded some fucking privacy by the darkness, but there’s no hiding from the dead. “So the carpet does match the drapes.” 

“Fuck off,” he growls, but even he can’t pretend there’s much heat behind it. He may not be human, but he’s a man like any other, with a man’s pride. He shifts his grip on his prick, showing off the length of it on his next stroke.

“It’s not a special trick or anything.” She acts like she hasn’t been interrupted, but her eyes are still trained on his hand. “Takes a little extra work, if you don’t want it to hurt. I like it to hurt. But Shadow...he likes to put in the work.” He grunts again, like maybe he can convince her he doesn’t care while he’s sitting back here polishing his damn prick getting talked off by some other fucker’s dead wife. Laura makes a little “huh” noise, and she props up her elbow on her knee, resting her chin on her hand. “It does take some effort to make anal good with a dick that size. He’ll do it rough, if I ask him, but I know he likes it sweet. I bet he’d be sweet with you.”

That one he feels in his _balls_ , and he squeezes his eyes shut, jerking himself harder. He pays a extra attention to the head, twisting his hand on the upstroke just shy of too rough. 

“Yeah,” Laura says to herself. “He’d want to take it slow, you know? He’s a good guy. And he would totally see right through your weird ‘no homo’ cock slut thing.” 

His eyes snap open at that. She stares back at him, unmoved, and he closes them again. He isn’t such a prideful bastard that he doesn’t know when to shut his gob and take what’s in front of him. Not when her words, her soft, dry voice is the closest he’s gotten to some touch since he started on the old man’s fuckin’ damned adventure. Briefly, he considers her hand; if he spat in it, it wouldn’t be so bad, and once his cock leaked enough to ease the way...but no. He’s not that desperate just yet, and anyway, he’s almost certain any advance on his part would break the spell. 

“You’ve seen what he can do with a quarter.” With his eyes closed, it’s easy to let her words slide over him, slipping down his chest, the planes of his belly, to finally settle with tangible heat in the scratch of ginger hair at the base of his prick. “It’s even better when it’s you. God, his  _ fingers _ .” Her sigh is breathy, a little melancholy, close enough to real that he grabs his balls with his other hand, gives them a good squeeze. “He’d be nice to you, even though you wouldn’t want him to. That’s exactly why he’d be nice. That’s just what he’s like.”

“Fuck,” Sweeney says, with feeling. His eyes are still closed, but he can feel her blank, dead eyes on him. It doesn’t feel so bad right now, with his whole body lit up with lust. “He as big a tease as you? Or is there more to  _ him _ than just talk?”

Laura snorts. Her clothing rustles as she shifts, tugging against her unyielding flesh. “Getting impatient, huh? You want to hear how my husband’s thick, hard cock would split your pasty ass open? How big and warm his hand feels when he spreads it across your belly, holding you in close while he fucks you? You want to know that he leaves hickies like a motherfucker, especially when he’s close? That sometimes he can’t control himself and bites your shoulder  _ hard  _ when he comes?”

Sweeney’s seen Shadow’s teeth stained with blood thanks to his own whirling fists. He thinks of Shadow like that, bloodied and panting, sinking his teeth into the rangy meat of Sweeney’s shoulder. He knows Laura is watching but can’t bring himself to care. He loosens his grip on his balls so he can slide his hand back, long fingers stroking over the sensitive skin of his taint. At the first touch, his prick drools a little more, a fat gob of precome making the slide of his hand that much smooth. If he was alone, he’d use some of that slick to give himself a finger or two, but he’s exposed enough of himself to Laura Moon for one night.

Instead, it’s his dry fingertips teasing at the rim of his asshole that brings him off in the end, remembering the waves of anger, confusion, and outright despair that rolled off of Shadow as they fought, how bittersweet they were on Sweeney’s tongue.

“Huh.” Laura says when he’s finished. He opens his eyes and looks up at her, prick going limp in his hand and jism getting tacky on his denim-clad thigh. He’s debauched before her, and she looks at him like a mildly interesting museum exhibit. Something under glass that you feel obligated to stare at for a moment or two to see if it inspires anything in you. She turns from him, settling back into the seat. “That was unexpected.”

Trust the dead to have a damnable gift for understatement.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang on [tumblr](http://villainsexuale.tumblr.com)


End file.
